


All Will be Won

by Wolkemesser



Category: Magic: The Gathering
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gruulfriends - Freeform, Multi, New Phyrexia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-09-02 06:27:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20271433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolkemesser/pseuds/Wolkemesser
Summary: Karn has decided to take drastic measures to ensure New Phyrexia does not spread beyond Mirrodin. Concerned for his friend and the multiverse at large, Teferi assembles an expedition group to accompany the golem on his mission, and hopefully mitigate the worst of the fallout.





	1. Prologue: Koth

Prologue

_New Phyrexia_

The furnace guards were leaning almost lazily on their spears, watching slag-fiends haul scrap metal. The small workers gobbled up the smaller pieces, and hefted larger chunks of burnt, twisted, and damaged metal to phyrexians that looked like nightmarish crucibles on legs. These beasts digested the metal in bellies that glowed white-hot.

Koth clenched his fist from the shadows. It would be easy enough to drop a few rocks on this meager force, but he couldn’t risk any of them raising an alarm. Besides, the furnace phyrexians seemed more or less happy to ignore any mirrans who didn’t try to interrupt their work.

Those porcelain monsters, on the other hand…

“What’s it look like out there?” Terrok hissed. Koth’s fellow vulshok was crouched beside him, sword in hand. Behind him their small group of survivors huddled low behind the stone. Elves, vedalken, a pair of uncharacteristically quiet goblins, all looking to Koth for their next move to safety.

“Just workers and a few guards,” Koth muttered. He gave the open space one last look before waving the others forward. “All Urabrask's. Norn’s monsters must have somewhere better to be.”

They emerged from their hiding spot and moved quickly along the inside of the chamber, in full view of the furnace phyrexians. The guards tensed and gripped their spears tighter, but made no other move to attack the mirrans. Either Urabrask’s edict was still in effect, or they genuinely didn’t care.

So the mirrans ran onward, under twisted, arched gateways, through a series of massive chambers. Forges. Refineries. Twisted versions of mirran industry, manned by metal horrors.

The lack of a hostile response still unsettled Koth. Not long ago the every one of these red phyrexians would have tried to kill him on-site. The Ogres hauling ore. The virons standing quiet guard over the archways...it would be so satisfying to just start tearing the damn things apart, but he couldn’t risk ruining the one advantage the mirrans had down here. Koth took a deep pull of hot air to center himself, and kept moving, trying his best to ignore the angry tension in his arms.

Behind him, the other mirrans were casting their own uneasy glances at the furnace dwellers. One of the vedalken almost bolted off in the wrong direction when the group jogged past a massive compleated ogre, hammering away at the forge on some unholy creation, and the goblins had to be physically restrained from assaulting a guard who was clearly plated in an altered set of krark-clan armor.

All the while the phyrexians never offered more hostility than the occasional predatory sneer.

In addition to leaving the mirrans to their devices, the furnace dwellers had also largely ignored the marks Koth and others had left in the walls of the tunnels and furnace spaces. Just then, Koth and his small group followed markers leading to the remains of the red lacuna. Now mostly a vast cavern lit and re-shaped by the constant flow of molten metal. The vent tunnels that now branched off from the lacuna wormed their way all along the underside of the plane, and to places on the surface where, even now, the resistance gathered.

And now just one chamber stood between them and those tunnels, albeit a vast one, were the phyrexians had diverted a large portion of the metal flow from the lacuna into temporary vats. Through the final passageway, there seemed to be only a few Exarchs monitoring ore collection. 

“Almost home free,” Terrok muttered.

Koth pursed his lips, but said nothing. There was nothing resembling real safety to be found anywhere on Mirrodin these days, but he couldn’t begrudge his companions their small hopes.

They dashed out of the tunnel and into the last chamber. Through the exit on the far side, the dim light of the lacuna hummed...

“Flesh!”

The scream stopped the survivors cold, just on the precipice of the cavern.

Above them, atop a ledge high on the chamber wall, a mass of shrouded figures stood. The furnace phyrexians in the chamber were gazing up at them as well, seeming about as agitated as the monsters were capable of being.

“Mirrans…” An oily voice carried down from the ledge, and a figure stepped forward, descending from the ledge along a curving ramp carved into the wall. “…are you not tired of fleeing?”

The figure stepped out of the shadows. It was a phyrexian, but one from the surface. Part of Elesh Norn’s force that had taken control of the furnaces months ago. Its face was a stiff porcelain mask, with a cracked mouth and eye sockets that leaked tears of black oil.

“Why do you sweat and toil this way?” The priest kept its eyes facing them as it spoke, circlingas it descended the spiraling ramp around the chamber. The other shadows followed it, and the light of the forges revealed them to be exarchs, though grey-plated, unlike the black-iron exarchs of the furnaces. “That is a path that leads to a death, if not by our hands then at the hands of time, as age withers your body to nothing. An incompleat path.”

The grey and porcelain phyrexians reached the furnace floor, and spread out before the mirrans. The furnace phyrexians present, a handful of slag fiends, about four potbellied, spear-armed guards, and the exarchs guarding the entrance to the cavern, stood at attention, seeming all of a sudden much more hostile than they had a moment ago. Lights flashed from the shadows along corners of the furnace. A handful of Norn’s long-clawed souleaters peeled off the walls, growling through mouths of white light.

“Submit quietly, and submit quickly,” the priest murmured. “Compleation awaits those willing to cast of their weakness. A slow death awaits those who cling to it.” The grey-plated exarchs started forward, arms outstretched.

Koth took a quick account of their enemies. They were surrounded, yes, but it seemed likely they didn’t know who he was, or what he was capable of doing. He could throw himself at the entrance, maybe bring down enough stone stop the phyrexians from pursuing them into the cavern. To maybe give his companions a shot at escaping to the tunnels?

It was worth a try. He clenched his fist, and took a breath, ready to give the order to flee.

Suddenly, one of the furnace guards was bellowing, pointing with its free hand past Koth.

Koth turned and his stomach twisted. A flock of phyrexian angels were screaming through the cavern, pouring out a vast vent in the roof. Too many to simply force his way past. They would have been flanked and shredded if the guard’s shout hadn’t alerted them.

Koth had only a split second to consider the guard’s behavior. Had it reacted that way deliberately? Why not let the angels ambush them?

Any further contemplation was cut short as the first of the exarchs reached their group. Koth flung his hand up and ripped the ground out from under three of them, sending them tumbling backwards into the priest. To his right, Terrok decapitated a porcelain souleater. To his right, an elven warrior thrust her spear down an exarch’s throat.

And above them, the angels closed in, elongated talons bared.

Koth reached into the surrounding ground and thrust two fists skyward. Stone flew up all around the mirran group, cutting off the attack from the phyrexians on the ground, and hurtling skyward toward the angels. The winged monsters maneuvered deftly through the gaps in the assault, but could not descend safely to rend the mirrans with their porcelain claws.

Koth’s rocks shattered wings and cracked heads, but the main mass of angels simply rose up again, out of the reach of his attacks. He cursed and shifted his attention to knocking aside the rocks that were starting to fall back down, directing them to land well away from the other mirrans.

One of the swifter angels took advantage of the momentary distraction and swooped down like a hunting owl. Koth had just enough time to put a single rock between himself and those claws. The force of the angel’s descent knocked the stone aside and bowled him over.

He grappled with the thing. The metal protrusions on his arms and shoulders scraped against plates of steel-hard porcelain. The angel scored a stinging strike to Koth’s side before he got his arm around its wing. He peeled it back with a heave, and caved the angel’s face in with a stone-wrapped fist.

But it had done its job. Koth’s stone assault had faltered, and the other angels suddenly had a clear route to the mirrans on the ground. Koth tried to raise another salvo, but felt a sudden surge of pain instead, from where the angel had struck him. He watched helplessly as the leader of the angels cried out in horrible, distorted triumph and dived together at the head of the flock.

A hot, angry wind rushed at Koth's back.

A second later a blur of metallic red shot through the chamber, ripping three angels from the rest of the flock, including the largest. The things’ bony wings folded around the blur as it tore them from the air, and out into the dark cavern. The other angels were too committed to the dive to pull up, but still a few faltered as they craned to see where their leader had gone.

They never saw the fireballs coming.

Blasts of flame lashed out from every direction, immolating half the airborne phyrexian force. The surviving angels struck the mirrans in much reduced numbers, inflicting casualties, but allowing the mirrans to mount a defense with their swords and axes and artifice-spells.

Koth looked around. Most of the furnace phyrexians had fallen well back, and were firing on their white-armored allies. Slag-fiends spat gouts of flaming metal at the angels trying to wing their way back to the sky, and the steel-plated exarchs were dispatching the porcelain ones with a grim fury.

Koth grit his teeth. Let the rotters tear each other apart; the reason why hardly mattered. Slowly, deliberately, he launched hunks of stone from the torn ground at the angels that still fought the mirrans. One rock took off an angel’s head. Another knocked an angel prone, where the goblins fell upon it, stabbing with bits of rusted scrap metal. The last one Koth hurled like a cannonball at an angel already falling to a sword-wound, knocking its arm clean off before it could get a final swipe in against the elf that felled it.

The mirrans re-grouped, backs pressed together, weapons pointed outward, looking for any more threats. Two elves and a vedalken lay dead among the angels. A thin line of smoke split the dark sky above them, tapering off to where the blur had carried off the larger angels. Koth’s gaze followed the trail to the ground, where something large and metallic was still moving.

Koth moved to join the other mirrans, forming a low stone wall around them as an afterthought. The furnace phyrexians had made quick work of their fellows, and now were standing about. Some looked curiously to the mirrans, but most remained where they were, idle. The few that were still moving began to drag the white phyrexians away toward the furnaces. The priest lay broken against an anvil, its head cracked like an egg, dripping an inky yolk.

The metallic thing in the distance scraped closer. It was large, but blended in almost perfectly with the shadows and crags of the furnace. If Koth hadn’t known to be looking for it, he might have dismissed the thing as a heat distortion.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” one of the elves whispered urgently. “Before they decide they want to kill _us_ too.”

Koth nodded. “Terrok, get everyone ready to run. I’ll carve us a path through the rotters to your left. We’ll have to take the long way out of here.” He clenched his hand, ready to pull up a chunk of steel and rock to hurl at the slag-fiends.

“Mirrans!”

The sound was smooth, metallic, and booming, and came from the thing in the cavern. Koth flinched, and pulled up the chunk of ground faster than he’d meant to. He hurled the rock straight forward, out into the darkness.

Just as quickly, the great shrouded thing ignited and launched forward, punching through the rock. As it cleared the smoke and debris of the collision, Koth at last recognized the creature in front of him.

Urabrask.

With a snarl, Koth thrust both his hands forward, his fury clearing away his fatigue. A gout of molten metal surged from the nearest pit and formed a massive hand, which seized Urabrask in mid-air and slammed him down into the ground. The praetor let out a surprisingly piteous sound as the fiery palm pressed him into the stone and steel floor.

The furnace phyrexians reacted almost immediately. The guards leveled their spears at the mirrans and the exarchs roared, brandishing flails and fire cannons. The mirrans shouted back their own ragged response, and Koth felt a sudden cold weight in his stomach. He wouldn’t be able to raise the stone wall high enough in time, with his strength focused on pinning Urabrask. If they were swarmed here, none of them would make it to the surface.

“Hold!” Urabrask’s voice was strained this time, crushed as he was. Still, he cut through the noise of the shouting warriors on both sides. “My workers, hold! Mirran! Let me free!”

The phyrexians did not advance further, but even the ones without eyes were looking at Koth’s group with clear hostility.

Koth hesitated. The furnace dwellers had them dead to rights if this fight went on any longer. The smart thing was to comply. But to let a praetor go, just like that? Even if those porcelain monsters were in charge now, any dead Phyrexian was better than a live and dangerous one.

“Vulshok.” Urabrask’s voice was a low growl now. “This is idiotic. We can kill each other now and be prey for the machine orthodoxy tomorrow, or we can fight together. Don’t let your weak flesh do something rash.”

“You’re gonna fight _with_ us now!?” Koth bellowed. “You expect me to believe that?”

“I expect you to see that you don’t have a choice.”

Koth grit his teeth, and looked around at the surviving mirran. That was all that mattered now, surviving. And given the choice between certain death now and possible death later…

He let his arms fall slowly to his side. The molten arm collapsed, living a hissing mass on the furnace floor.

Urabrask picked himself up from the cooling metal slag and ambled toward the mirrans. He was a strange thing, like a dragon twisted into the vague shape of a human, then made inhuman again by completion, with his strange, fire blasting pseudo-wings and huge, curving beak of a head. For all that he moved smoothly, like the crocodiles of Urborg.

“You’re heading for the mountains.” Urabrask said it without a hint of question in his voice.

Terrok bristled at Koth’s side. “How do you know that?”

Urabrask laughed. It was unsettling for how genuine it sounded. “Not even worth calling it a secret at this point. There’s no-where on this world that Phyrexia does not see.” He gestured back toward the nearest furnace. “But _I_ am responsible for being the eyes down here. Elesh Norn’s orthodox sycophants can only observe so much, and even the spies of the Progress engine can fail. I offer you safe passage. For these and any survivors that you wish to bring through the furnace. I’m sure there’s all sorts of mischief you could cause our brothers and sisters of Phyrexia with that sort of freedom.”

The mirrans looked amongst themselves. Even the goblins looked dubious at this.

Koth folded his arms. “And in return?”

“The Furnace’s great work continues, and now it must continue in opposition to the rest of Phyrexia. To do so...to be an effective _ally_ of you mirrans, I need materials that cannot be found in the furnace layer; materials to arm my forces adequately. Most importantly, I need to acquire these materials without raising suspicion.”

Koth turned his head behind him, to where the furnace phyrexians were dragging away the last of the angels. “Might be too late for that.”

Urabrask snorted. “A fraction of a fraction of Norn’s forces. They will not be missed.” Urabrask nodded his head at the mirrans that had fallen. “I need only deliver the bodies of your dead as proof that they were attacked.”

One of the elves almost lunged at Urabrask, swearing loudly. Terrok held her back. Koth continued to glare up at Urabrask.

“And when you’ve gotten what you need from us? Are you telling me we’ll just live side-by-side like you haven’t slaughtered my people, and the people of every mirran standing here?”

“That’s a discussion for another day.” Urabrask tilted his head. “Another, less desperate day.”

“And you think we even have a shot at re-taking Mirrodin? If we manage to string together all these miracles?”

“There is very little hope.”

Koth snorted. “Then what’s the point?”

“Very little hope, I said. Not hopeless.”

Koth was taken aback for a moment. Then he laughed. His companions exchanged worried glances, but he stepped forward all the same, offering his clenched fist.

“Deliver us safely, and you have a deal. If you betray me, I’ll tear off your limbs and you’ll die choking on magma.”

Urabrask reached out a talon and tapped it against Koth’s hand with a sound like a bell chime.

“The same to you, little mirran.”


	2. Chandra

Chandra awoke, aching over every inch of her body.

That seemed to be most of her mornings, lately. Even when she was lucky enough to wake up on her own bed in Ghirapur, she felt like she’d been sleeping on rocks.

She blinked. There was a beam of sunlight streaming onto her face, and a figure silhouetted in the doorway.

“Chandra, honey, breakfast’s ready.”

Admittedly, her mother’s voice and the smell of hot food was much nicer way to start the day than with dragons deciding whether you’d make a good snack, or with the bush you’d sheltered behind the night before turning out to be an angry brushwagg.

Chandra groaned softly and disentangled herself from her blankets. Pia smiled down at her. “You slept in your gear again.”

That explained the soreness. Chandra reached around and unhooked the power vent on her back. “I uh...I got in late. Really tired.” She pulled off her gauntlets, one by one. The padding inside was soaked in sweat, and her sheets had caught on the cuffs.

Pia sat down next to Chandra on the side of her bed and helped her disentangle. Mom was looking a lot happier these days. Not being a renegade was clearly agreeing with her health.

“I used to fall asleep in my work clothes when I was your age.” Pia ran a hand through Chandra’s hair as she disentangled her goggles. “Your father, on the other hand, would change into a gown at night and fall asleep at the drafting table.”

“Mmm” Chandra rested her forehead on Pia’s shoulder. “Thanks for the great genes, mom.”

Pia laughed, and pulled a stray bit of rubble out of her daughter’s hair. “Come on; before the food gets cold.”

Breakfast was, as it always seemed to be whenever Chandra came back from an extraplanar outing, a feast. Warm bread covered in garlic and honey, a plate heaped with sliced melons and mango, hot wraps of spicy fried potatoes, and a sweet stew of squash and chickpeas. Through the open window by the table, Chandra could see thopters festooning the streets with colored streams of cloth for the latest festival.

Chandra fell into her chair and loaded up her plate while Pia poured them both tea. Pia hadn’t asked yet about where she had gone this time, and Chandra was as always, grateful that her mom always waited until she felt ready to share.

Pia sat down next to Chandra, two steaming cups set in front of her. “Nissa came by this morning.”

Chandra nearly choked on a mouthful of bread. Pia gently patted her on the back and offered the tea, which helped clear the food.

“W-where’d she go?” Chandra looked out the window and around the kitchen, half expecting to see Nissa standing by the icebox.

“Back out. I asked her to stay for breakfast but she said she wanted to let you rest.” Pia paused. “Have you been to see her lately?”

Chandra flushed and looked down at her plate, mumbling something about having been busy.

“Mhmmm.” Pia sipped her own tea. “You should do something about that. I _think_ she’s still in the city.”

Chandra cast a nervous look out the window. Given the choice between hanging around the city and the strain of planeswalking somewhere quieter, she wasn’t sure which Nissa would choose. Chandra hoped she’d found a quiet spot; the thought of Nissa anxious in the Ghirapur crowds made her stomach hurt.

“I...I think I’ll go look for her after I eat.”

“Good.” Pia raised an eyebrow at Chandra. “She seems very fond of you.”

“Mo-OM!”

Pia put her hands up. “Alright, alright. Backing out of your love life.” She smiled, stroked the side of Chandra’s face, and started to fill her own plate. "But if you want any advice, you know your mother might have some good advice-"

"Mooooom."

_Thump_

Chandra nearly leapt out of her seat as a heavy knock shook the door.

She looked at her mom. “Is that someone from the consulate?”

Pia was already getting to her feet, patting Chandra on the shoulder. “It shouldn’t be. I moved all my appointments for the morning.” She sighed. “Of course, there’s no re-scheduling the crises in this city sometimes.”

Chandra sank a little in her seat, a slice of mango hanging out the side of her mouth. Half of her hoped that Nissa would come walking through the door. The other half desperately needed their next meeting postponed until she had figured out just what she was going to _say_. She’d probably have time. Nissa never knocked that loudly.

“Hello Karn, and hello...ah!”

Chandra turned in her chair and looked down the short hallway to the door. Sure enough, Teferi was standing in the doorway, giving a theatrical little bow to her mom. Karn loomed at his side, blocking out the doorway, and then some.

“Pia, the pleasure is always mine.” Teferi tapped his staff to his breast for emphasis. “The city looks more lovely every time I visit. All thanks to your deft hand at reform, I assume?”

Pia laughed. Hearing that was almost as nice as the breakfast Chandra was enjoying. “Sometimes it feels like the city thrives in spite of us.”

“Ah, always some challenge, isn’t it?” Teferi stepped inside, and Karn squeezed through behind him.

Even without seeing Pia’s face, Chandra could tell her mom was rolling her eyes. “I can’t even begin to tell you. Just this week those greedy aether-harvesters tried to push an amendment to privatize again. It would’ve been easy enough to vote them down but the city patrol and the chief of engineers are having some kind of petty dispute and won’t vote the same way on _anything_ right now!”

Teferi nodded as they started back toward the kitchen. “Factions can be quite the problem. I dealt with squabbles between city-states back when the Suq’ata were expanding into Zhalfir and Femeref. Very tricky, those negotiations. I’m not sure I handled them particularly well.” Teferi paused, thoughtful. “I recommend not removing yourself from the time stream during such a conflict. Things are usually worse when you get back.”

Pia laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Chandra frowned. Her mom’s face looked more flushed than usual. Was she coming down with a fever?

“Chandra!” Teferi bowed again, and offered his hand, which Chandra took and shook. “Please excuse the intrusion.”

“No, uh...I’m glad to see you,” Chandra replied, stuffing away her disappointment that he wasn’t the elf she had been hoping for. She stood up and hugged Teferi. “Really. Did you make it back to Dominaria after…?”

“For a while, yes.” Teferi embraced her, then took a seat opposite Chandra. “Niambi scolded me properly for not eating enough while I was away, so I thought I’d visit your home. My stomach still grumbles for those spicy potato dumplings. Samsha? Samarah?”

“Samosa”

“Exactly that.”

Chandra hugged Karn as well before sitting down. The golem gave her a smile and a gentle pat on the shoulder, but his eyes looked...sad? Worried? Just like mom’s used to look when they were fighting the consulate. “It’s good to see you well-cared for,” his voice was, as always, rough and metallic, but warm. “And taking time to rest.”

Pia snorted and took the seat next to Teferi “We’ll see how much time. I don’t imagine you’re both here just for the company.”

“No, no that’s just a small perk.” Teferi winked at her.

Karn cleared his throat. Or made a sound like he was clearing his throat. Would a golem ever actually _need_ to clear their throat? “Teferi...”

“Ah, yes...” Teferi leaned back, tapping his forefinger against his cane in a slow rhythm. “...We have a favor to ask. A rather big one, actually, he waved at Karn, who was hovering over the empty side of the table. The golem crossed his arms. He looked almost...impatient?

Chandra set down her spoon and exchanged a quick look with her mother. “What sort of favor?”

“How much do you know about the plane of Mirrodin?”

Chandra glanced up at Karn. The golem did not meet her eyes, but was staring fixedly at Teferi. “Only what I’ve been told, and that’s not much. Lots of artifice, invaded by monsters?”

“That’s...more or less the situation, yes.” Teferi accepted a mug from Pia. “Though these are exceptional monsters. I’ve been fighting the phyrexians in some form or another since I was a boy, and I have not been a boy for a long, long time. Karn...well, he was literally created with the intention of thwarting the phyrexians. A horrible origin for someone as sentient and compassionate as my dear friend is, and part of the problem facing us now.”

“A problem facing _you_,” Karn interrupted. “_My_ path forward is clear.”

“And yet,” Teferi returned, his voice level but forceful, “Your path is full of those who might not wish you to tread so heavily upon it. So we have come to seek council. And allies.”

Chandra looked from the time-mage to the golem. “Allies for what?”

“I’m going back to New Phyrexia,” Karn rumbled. “I’ve made no secret of that. It is a poison that cannot be allowed to spread the multiverse again. Every moment we ignore the threat is a moment they have to grow stronger.”

“On _that _we are in agreement.” Teferi folded his hands and turned to Pia and Chandra. “But we’ve already lost one friend delving into that world. I would rather not lose any more.”

“We are also in agreement on that,” Karn replied. “That’s why I retrieved the sylex in the first place, so that I might have the tools to act alone.”

“The sylex?” Chandra perked up. This she knew. “That...thing in the crater you dug up? The thing Multani was so afraid of?”

Karn nodded.

“Well, that seems safe to me,” Chandra said. “Something that dangerous...couldn’t Karn just activate it and ‘walk back to a safer world?”

Teferi grimaced. “It’s not so simple-”

“It is for me.” Karn unfolded his arms. “Because we are old friends, I will wait while you seek council, Teferi. We cannot wait forever, and I cannot let doubt cloud this mission.” He started out toward the door. “Thank you, Pia, Chandra. I hope I might visit again soon under better circumstances.”

He closed the door behind him much more gently than he had knocked.

“We’ve never argued like this before,” Teferi said, after an uncomfortably silent lapse. “Plenty of disagreements over our centuries, but nothing that’s upset him this much.”

Pia patted his arm. “Well, you’re talking about it. That’s a good first step.”

Teferi nodded. “It was a small struggle, convincing him to let me recruit allies for this task, but I’m hoping to surround him with enough allies to keep him safe, and enough cool heads to talk him down, before he escalates the conflict.”

Pia raised an eyebrow. “Escalates it how?” She glanced nervously at Chandra.

“The Golgothian sylex has been used at least once before. Urza, my...my former teacher, activated it in a war with his brother, Mishra, and released a blast so ruinous as to kill every living soul for miles, cast the entire plane of Dominaria into an ice age, and affect the connection between the planes themselves, locking Dominaria away from the rest of the multiverse for centuries.”

A brief silence fell over the table. Chandra met her mother’s eye and grimaced. Pia looked toward the door.

“He, um, he doesn’t have that thing with him now, does he?”

“Ah, no, no.” Teferi lay a reassuring hand over Pia’s. “We found an empty plane to stow it on while we make...preparations. Well guarded, between my magics and Karn’s sentinels.”

Chandra’s mouth felt dry. “And...and he wants to do the same thing on another plane?”

“He does. And even if the effects of the blast weren’t potentially interplanar in nature, there remains a not insignificant population of native mirrans on the plane that is likely to suffer significantly if the sylex is triggered. They...are suffering even now, admittedly, but the sylex is a tool for cleansing worlds, not saving them.”

Chandra put her spoon down. The explanation, funnily enough, had done nothing to take the edge off her appetite, but it didn’t seem right to stuff her face during this particular discussion.

Teferi shook his head. “I don’t mean to be so dour. I think we have more options than Karn believes, and so I’ve come to ask my fellow gatewatchers to lend your talents to exploring those options.”

“Definitely!” Chandra nodded. “I’ll definitely help. With fighting, or whatever we need to do. With talking to Karn, I guess. I get being angry with….well, everything, so...yeah, I’m happy to talk with him more.”

Teferi smiled. “Thank you, Chandra. It’s not really anger, I don’t think. The world has not been kind to Karn, and so many regrets over so many centuries...they weigh down hard.”

“Have you talked with the others yet? Who else is in?”

“Kaya is...otherwise engaged.” Teferi’s smile fell a little. “I think her affairs on Ravnica continue to entangle her. Jace has pledged his support, but I worry about exposing him to the minds of New Phyrexia. We might reach out to others, but given Karn’s impatience...”

“Right. Better sooner than later.” Chandra glance toward the door. Then back at Teferi. His hand was still on Pia’s. “Should we go after him now? Is he gonna leave without us.”

“No, I don’t think so. I would guess he’s keeping Nissa company in the courtyard.”

Chandra nearly choked on her tea. “NiSSa?!”

“Yes, we said hello on the way in.” Teferi raised an eyebrow. “I was going to apologize for holding you up. I assumed she was waiting for you...”

Chandra was up from the table already. She sprinted into her room to grab something to run outside in, and headed for the door. “Mom! Sorry! I can help with the dishes when I get back!”

“Take your time; I’ll give Pia a hand.” Teferi started rolling up his sleeves as Chandra struggled with the folds of her Salwar. “We’ll talk soon?”

“Soon. I’ll ask Nissa about Mirrodin, uh...if I get a chance. And Ajani.”

“Thank you.” He clapped her on the shoulder, lightly. “I hate to ask you away so soon. I know your mother was hoping you’d stay for longer, but this is as dire a situation as I can imagine.”

“Mom?” Chandra squatted by the door and pulled her slippers on. “It’s...it’s fine. She knows I do this all the time.”

“Yes, but a parent worries. Your mother too, more than you might think.”

“I...wait, how do you know-?”

“Dishes!” Teferi clapped his hands together and made an apologetic bow. “We’ll talk soon, once I’ve spoken with Jace.”

Chandra narrowed her eyes as Teferi swept out of view. They would have to discuss...something, later.

For now, Nissa.

** ** **

Chandra slipped into the courtyard, already sweating from the day’s heat. It was largely empty, save for an old Dwarf inspecting the adjacent buildings for Gremlins. Nissa was seated on a metal bench in the shade of a small plum tree, eyes closed and cross-legged. Karn wasn’t anywhere in sight.

Splotches of sunlight fell through the leaves, across Nissa’s cheeks and hair. Other than the minute rise and fall of her chest, she was perfectly still as she meditated.

Perfectly still, perfectly composed.

Perfect…

“Hello, Chandra.”

Two shimmering drops of emerald shined as Nissa opened her eyes, smiling up At Chandra. Chandra realized, with a thud of her heart, that she’d been staring.

“H-hey! Hi!” Chandra started forward half a step, reconsidered the logistics of trying to hug someone who was sitting down, reconsidered hugging Nissa without an invitation period, and halted in place.

For her part, Nissa sprang up from the bench, her cape unfurling behind her as a gentle stream of aether-scented air flowed through the courtyard. The breeze caught up in the branches overhead as well, and a few leaves came loose, twirling to the ground.

“Are you well?” Nissa cocked her head a degree. “Pia said you’d just gotten in last night.” She drifted close to Chandra. For a half second Chandra was sure she saw Nissa’s arms raise up, as if to embrace her, but she blinked, and the elf was at her side.

“Uh, yeah...” Chandra reminded herself to smile, then realized that she’d been grinning like an idiot since Nissa had opened her eyes. They started walking together across the courtyard. “Kaldheim this time. Had to help Ajani with defending a village from raiders.”

“Oh”

“Yeah, up in the mountains.” Chandra felt her heartbeat start to hammer a little less. _Just breathe_. “I...I think you’d really like it, actually. The mountains are so peaceful there, and the forests….well, kind of dark, but beautiful in the snow.”

“I would love to see it sometime.”

“Totally! We should all go soon!” Chandra glanced down at Nissa’s hand. Should she hold it? _Could_ she hold it? Was it holdable? “Uh, the Gatewatch that is, if we get a chance. How about you? Where have you been?”

“Zendikar.” Nissa’s fingertips brushed Chandra’s knuckles, And Chandra threw her hand behind her back in a panic. “Um, the recovery is going slowly, but Bala Ged is already starting to look more green than ashen.”

They came to the end of the courtyard. A small archway led out onto a main street, where a tall elephantine construct was currently lumbering through the crowd, baskets of spices as dried fruit hanging from its sides.

“So, uh…” Chandra busied her hands with parting the crowd in front of her to make a way for Nissa. “What brings you around?”

“I wanted to see you.”

Panicked sirens started sounding in Chandra’s head. _Say something! Something cool!_

“Oh, cool. Totally cool!”

The sirens cranked up a degree. _WHYWOULDYOUSAY THAT????!!!!_

“If that’s alright. I hoped…well, I thought you might be free between missions.”

“Oh, totally!” Chandra’s heart was starting to hammer again, but she was getting into the rhythm of it. “Completely free! I was going to wait a while before checking in with Jace so...ah, darn it.”

Chandra turned and looked back up toward her mom’s place. She’d completely forgotten about Teferi.

Nissa glanced up as well. “Is everything alright?”

“There might actually be something. A new mission. The Dominaria old-timers came around this morning.”

“Ah, yes I saw Karn and Teferi coming in off the street.” Nissa turned back to Chandra. “Can I help?”

“Oh! Probably, yeah! Teferi wanted to get as many ‘walkers as possible for this one. It’s...well, maybe I should let them explain it later.” Chandra took a turn onto a less-crowded street where they could walk side-by-side. “It sounds dangerous though. Not that you can’t deal with danger, I mean. And l would definitely want to spend the time with you, so uh...” She trailed off, her brain having successfully intervened in the conversation to cut off the babbling.

“I’d like that as well.” Nissa was hugging her elbows, despite the thinning crowd. “Though...I was hoping we might spend some time somewhere with a little less danger than usual. Some time together?”

“There’s a street night market tonight we could go to?” Chandra swallowed dryly, trying not to think about what exactly she was doing, in case she psyched herself out of it. “The golden thopter festival is tonight, so there’ll be a lot of really good food. Um, it might be a bit crowded but we could watch the flight displays from the roof or something?”

Nissa smiled. “Let’s do that.” She had her hands clasped together in front of her, fidgeting, but her eyes looked earnest. “Food and some time to talk?”

“Y-yeah!”

“Okay.” Nissa stopped in the middle of the street, and Chandra turned to face her. “Tonight. I...I think I might need some time to prepare. To rest a little beforehand.”

“Sure,” Chandra replied automatically. “Whatever you’re comfortable with. Whenever works.”

Nissa grinned wider and leaned in.

“I’ll pick you up at your mother’s, then. I’m looking forward to it.”

The she was gone in a whirl of sweet green.

Despite her burning cheeks, Chandra practically floated through the streets back to her mom’s house.

She had a date!


	3. Threch

Threch scurried along the halls of the annex, about as happy as a myr could be.

As _useful_ as a myr could be, Threch corrected herself. Happy was a feeling for flesh, and flesh feelings were a distraction from doing what was good and holy and phyrexian. Still, there was a satisfaction that came with being efficient and useful, when the alternative was to be aimless and foolish.

Like those poor leonin in the conversion rooms to the left. Threch caught snippets of the priests’ droning, teaching the basics of the Machine orthodoxy as they flayed that itchy, moist, wicked skin from the mirrans’ bodies. It seemed like a poor time to try and teach them, while pain wracked their bodies. While their howls drowned out every other sound.

Threch shook her head and scurried past. Her round feet made a pleasantly meticulous _tap tap tap tap tap _ as she hurried through corridors and up stairwells. It was a long, winding way to the preator’s quarters, and Chancellor Tivvus had made it clear the message was important. _That_ went without saying; the fact that the message warranted a praetor’s attention was sign enough that it was urgent.

Two hulking, halberd-wielding, elephantine guards flanked the entryway to Norn’s tower. Compleated loxodons. Their rough grey hides had been replaced with smooth steel, and their spinal cords were surgically elongated past the tailbones, out of their bodies, and into the wall of meat and porcelain that made up the outer layer of gateway. A sheath of metal and muscle covered the spines, and stretched as the loxodons leaned forward to inspect the etchings on Threch’s beak, indicating her as a chancellor’s courier.

A splash of black caught Threch’s eye. Oil dribbled from one of the guard’s side, where it was mindlessly scratching and pulling at the cord linking it to the tower.

A very _flesh-_ _l_ _ike _sign of discomfort.

Threch paused, and looked up and down the corridor. If a priest or exarch of the Total Unity sect saw that, they might take the guard away for destruction and reclamation. Sensible, of course; there couldn’t be imperfections in a perfectly unified world, but it would be a waste of energy and resources to destroy what could simply be corrected.

Retrieving a roll of cloth from her courier’s pouch, Threch began to mop up the small pool of oil. The Loxodon looked down, eyes glowing. Threch emitted a series of clicks and chirps; basic communication that even the wretched flesh could understand:

“Be careful, brother. Order is all. All is one. The priests will see and know what is not one, and that which is not one must be undone.”

The guards exchanged glances. The other loxodon had clearly not even noted her companion’s wound until that moment. Poor, unobservant flesh.

More chirps. More clicks. “It is frightening, becoming one with the glorious machine. Cast aside fear. Cast aside discomfort. Be unflinching.”

The loxodons said nothing, but there was the barest hint of a nod from the scratching guard. The hand that had been worrying the loxodon’s side pulled away, and wrapped tight around the shaft of the halberd instead. The spinal cord was still scored with scratch-marks, but nothing that a passer-by would notice unless they stopped to examine it. Threch tucked away the oil-damp rag and continued along, scrabbling up the steep, curved pathway to Elesh Norn.

Even the praetor’s personal tower was full of activity. Priests made their way up and down the main stairway, bearing decrees, inspecting samples of molten porcelain, and busying themselves with a dozen other inscrutable tasks. The Apostles of Karn seemed to have finally lost the last of their dwindling favor with Norn; Threch did not see even a single worshiper of the alleged ‘father of machines’ on her climb to the top.

There was a new attendant outside the praetor’s audience chamber; a thin priest with long, spinal arms and a segmented mask that leaked oil from the eyes to the mouth. They inspected Threch’s etchings, noting where she had come from, and indicated for them to wait.

Threch dared a peek into the chamber once the attendant’s back was turned. The whole of the tall, cylindrical room was flooded with a cool light, that made every inch of porcelain metal gleam. There was a priest already speaking with Norn, articulating sharply with gray, segmented hands. A high-ranking priest, judging by the immaculate state of his robes, and very clearly agitated.

“Honored praetor, I must protest-”

“_Must_ protest? I think you’ll find you have more options than _that_, Raxid.”

Threch couldn’t _see_ Norn, but the praetor’s voice sounded sublime as ever. She dared another step toward the entryway.

“Preator-” Exarch Raxid paused a beat as the attendant entered the chamber. “-I wish only for that which we rightly preach to every newt and compleated creature; to join my oil and my steel with the great singularity; to be melded and stitched into its great mass. My service to the orthodoxy is impeccable. My desire to become one with the great body without match. My devotion to the singularity-”

Threch leaned in further to see Norn holding up a long-clawed hand, silencing the priest. The praetor was standing atop a high dais, silks of red trailing off from her body. “Your inclusion in the great body is important, of course. But the great unification will never come to be if its greatest proponents stitch themselves up into it before they lay the groundwork for its final compleation. _Because _your work is impeccable, you will labor now to ensure glory later, that all will be one.”

She nodded toward the entryway. A clear sign of dismissal.

“All will be one,” Raxid muttered, bowing low. He backed out of the room, eyes fixed on the floor until he had left the chamber entirely. A jaw-clenched scowl twisted his mouth as soon as he turned away into the darkness of the antechamber, and Threch pressed herself against the doorway to avoid catching his attention.

Norn fixed her attendant with an eyeless gaze. “Now, what next?”

“Tivvus’ Myr is here, oh Grand Cenobite. It has a message for you.”

_It. it. _It vexed Threch to hear it, even as she nearly shivered with joy at entering the audience chamber, and being so close to the praetor. The exarchs said gender was a useless concept, worth nothing except to the flesh.

But _she_ was good enough for Elesh Norn, and so it was good enough for Threch.

If the grand cenobite recognized Threch from her previous visits, she made no sign of it. That made sense, of course. Many matters occupied the cenobite’s mind, and a humble myr should be satisfied with taking up space in a praetor’s presence, let alone their memory.

“Let us have Tivvus’ message, then.” Norn extended a hand in Threch’s direction. “What good news does our furnace custodian send us?”

Threch opened her beak and activated the secondary voicebox that she’d been blessed with upon her compleation. A series of pre-recorded screeches poured out. Tivvus’ voice, speaking in a code known only to the highest-ranked of the Orthodoxy; a security measure, lest their couriers fall into mirran hands.

Or the hands of the less….devoted factions.

Threch watched Norn as the message played. Even standing still and listening, the cenobite’s perfection was impossible to ignore. The seamless joining of metal and taut flesh. The broad, powerful plates of porcelain steel. The way her teeth grit in anger-

Threch realized with a start that almost every phyrexian in the chamber, from the porcelain legionnaires guarding the entrance, to the mute attendants holding the trails of Norn’s garb, looked greatly troubled at Norn’s reaction to the message. Even without knowing the chancellor’s words, it was clear the news was indeed urgent, and apparently not good.

“An entire flight of our blessed seraphs lost, and Tivvus thinks to _complain_?” The voice was still beautiful, but its blessed edge was now directed at Threch, and she very nearly shut her beak, not wishing to anger Norn with whatever else the message contained.

The impulse only lasted a moment. Threch had seen other phyrexians hide news they thought would displease a superior. The punishment for such deceit was usually fatal.

Mercifully, there was little more in the recording. Terse, as was the chancellor’s way.

“Has Tivvus sent you here so that we might listen to him whine?” Norn stepped down from the dais, walking straight toward Threch. A vision of perfection, but an especially menacing vision just then, even with her attendants stumbling over themselves to keep up with her. “Does he think that his losses impress me?” She reached out for Threch, claws spread wide. “Is this his resignation? I suppose this is his way of saying I should make plans for his reclaiming?”

Threch had several revelations in that split second. One, Elesh Norn was certainly about to rend her to pieces. Justly so, of course; the courier of a failed chancellor could easily be seen as an extension of that failure. Two, Tivvus’ message had likely failed to actually specify what he needed from Norn. Threch had suspected the message had to do with Exarch Dolgus’ recent disappearance in the lower furnaces, but had overlooked the possibility that Tivvus would simply report the loss of forces and leave it at that.

It made sense. Tivvus was chancellor, and chancellor of a domain far from the center of the orthodoxy’s power. Threch explained herself to him. All his priests and servants and lackeys explained themselves to him. _He_ was far too used making a statement and expecting his underlings to see the command within. And since only he could craft the message to Elesh Norn…well, he’d done it in the way he was accustomed to.

And now his courier was about to pay the price.

As Norn’s talons scraped Threch’s breast, the little myr courier began to chirp again. Simple words. She was just a servant, after all.

“Glorious Cenobite. Chancellor Tivvus prepares to chastise the furnace dwellers for still harboring mirrans in their faithless bowels. Chancellor Tivvus seeks only your blessing, and a modest force to replace his losses. This request he has entrusted with this humble courier.”

Norn paused, fingers still pressed against Threch. Slowly, the preator raised her hand, gripped Threch about the head, and lifted the courier level with her faceplate.

“Resources are short at the furnace annex, I take it? For all his blessings, Tivvus has so few recording tubes that his courier has to memorize most of his words?”

Threch’s mind whirled for only a second before she chirped a reply.

“Chancellor Tivvus regrets this method of delivery, but all his resources are directed toward ensuring full control of the furnace.”

Norn’s teeth spread in a grim smile. “How wise of him. Truly a good and faithful servant.”

She placed Threch back onto the cold metal floor, so delicately that Threch’s feet made only a small, soft _clang_ as they touched back down.

Norn turned to the door attendant, who had managed to look nonplussed throughout all of it.

“Etch onto her my seal, and find her an escort; I am conscripting Tivvus’ mouthpiece, since he seems unable to articulate what must be said.” She turned back to Threch. “As fortune would have it, our siblings of the progress engine are in need of a diversion. You will carry a message to Lumengrid, where you will find the reinforcements Tivvus so prudently has requested. With a bit of...cooperation, we will get to the bottom of this disquiet, that all may soon be one.”

“All will be one.” Threch chirped it and bowed along with the attendant. The legionnaires by the door echoed the words, though quieter.

“That will be all. Do not disappoint us, little one.”

Threch nodded, and scurried from the room behind the attendant. She hoped desperately that Tivvus did in fact plan to take action.

No, not hope. She hoped for nothing, but merely saw that one outcome would be better than the other.

Hope, of course, was for the flesh.


	4. Chandra / Nissa

_Kaladesh_

Pia was preparing to leave for work by the time Chandra made it back to the apartment. She was also, as far as Chandra could tell, alone.

Chandra peeking around the kitchen and into the common room. “Where’d he go?”

“Who?”

“Teferi.” Chandra turned back to her mom. “He’s, um...he’s been coming around a lot?”

“Once or twice since you left to fight that dragon.” Pia was sitting at the table, pulling on her boots. “I wouldn’t say a _lot_. We’re both very busy people.”

“Oh? Anything else you have in common?” Chandra tried to not make it sound interrogative, but her voice cracked just a little as she asked.

“Yes, actually.” A small smile crawled over Pia’s face. “He knows quite a bit about artifice, and it’s nice to have someone to talk shop with after dealing with politics my every waking hour.” She pulled the last loop of her bootlaces tight and stood. “He’s led a _very _interesting life.”

“Yeah, a very interesting and _long _life.” Chandra crossed her arms. “_His_ daughter is about your age.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Pia smirked and put a hand on her hip. “Are you calling your mother old?”

“No! No, it’s just...” Chandra frowned and looked at the floor. A small mumble slipped out from between her lips.

“What was that, dear?”

“...Moms shouldn’t date...”

Pia laughed, and walked over to embrace her daughter.

“Don’t worry, my little fire. Work doesn’t leave me nearly enough time for romance. It’s just some charming company, now and then. Until I find more time to myself.”

Chandra smiled and returned the hug, but frowned again as they pulled apart. “More time...more time to yourself _by _yourself?”

Pia shrugged and turned toward the door. “Well, it does get lonely, even in the city. And with my daughter so busy these days...speaking of which, if you’re looking for somewhere to take Nissa while she’s in the city, the night market-”

“I already thought of that!”

“Great minds think alike!” With a wink, Pia slipped through the door and out into the hallway “Treat her to something nice!”

** ** ** ** **

_Cities_ _are just like people_.

Nissa opened and closed her eyes slowly, in tune with the swell and fall of her chest as she breathed in the night air of Ghirapur. Cities would never fully agree with her, but at least here the populace had built their living space to be in tune with nature. Here, every street and spire was laid out so the breeze and the aether flowed freely like blood through the veins. Like a river through the earth.

_They’ve all got their own character, cities. Some lovely, others...well, some cities aren’t for everyone._

Ravnica had nothing like this, not really. It was all blocks and rock and metal jammed together with little forethought, except maybe for what and where to build next. It had its pockets of natural growth, but they were too few and far between, and not enough of them accessible to the average city dweller.

And they were all city-dwellers on Ravnica. Even the conclave. Even the poor clans.

_Not even a reflection of the people. Just the will of a few too-powerful individuals._

Nissa opened her eyes fully. A mechanical fox had wandered up and perched on the crate next to her about an hour ago, and she had a hand resting atop its chrome-latticework head. There was not a single organic piece to the creature, but it squinted its eyes and shuddered as though it enjoyed Nissa’s touch.

She looked up from the fox to the doorway across the street. The door to Chandra’s building. They had said they’d meet up that evening, but neither of them had thought to specify a time. Nissa hadn’t wanted to bother Chandra by planeswalking back just to clarify, but she also didn’t want to risk being late and missing her…her…

Friend? Partner? Nissa didn’t think the latter was the case just yet, but they were….they’d said the words to each other on Ravnica. So were they really just friends anymore? Still friends, but something else now besides?

Whatever Chandra was to her right now, Nissa didn’t want to miss her because she’d shown up too late.

Consequently, she’d had quite a while to sit with her thoughts as she waited outside, the sky turning from blue to orange to fiery pink overhead.

She was grateful to the fox for giving her something to do with her hands other than fidget. The city streets were a different sort of busy at night. A more pleasant, bustle, certainly, as the activity of business gave way to citizens looking for something leisurely to do with their evening.

But it was still bustle. Stressful. Exhausting.

_People are exhausting._

Even so, Nissa had to smile at certain things. The children charging thopters at the free aether ports. The on-guard consulate helping visitors find their way, rather than frisking and harassing anyone they didn’t like the look of. She was proud of herself, and of her friends, for helping to make it happen. She was proud of these people, that loved the harmony of their city. She was proud of Pia Nalaar, who had been working so hard to make sure that the city’s conditions kept improving. Pia had brought so much good into the world.

“Nissa!”

The voice was loud, but filled with a warmth that eased the slight tension in Nissa’s chest. Chandra was bounding down the steps and across the street, waving with both hands, her regulator and goggles tucked into the folds of a brilliant yellow-and-red sari.

“How long were you waiting? I’m sorry, I should have mentioned a time!”

Nissa smiled and as Chandra skidded to a stop in front of her. “Not long. You look lovely.”

Chandra’s face was already a bit red; Nissa suspected she’d run down from her apartment. Still, it managed to get a bit redder. Yahenni had told Nissa once at a party that that was not necessarily a bad thing, but Nissa still worried she might be making Chandra unnecessarily embarrassed.

“Thanks, uh...” Chandra looked Nissa up and down. “You look, really, um...really good.”

“Thank you.” Nissa smiled and stood, careful with the broad folds of the dancing-trousers and jacket she’d bartered for a week ago. They were a hardy Kor design – all leather and canvas, but the cream-colored fabric and oaken hide had been stitched with a floral pattern Nissa found appealing. “I thought they’d be nice to wear ou-”

She stumbled a step backward, and back onto the crate. The fox jumped up and out of the way with a small mechanical yelp, and scurried away down the street. Nissa cursed softly. She hadn’t realized her legs had fallen asleep.

Chandra raised an eyebrow, grinning slightly. “You _sure_ you weren’t waiting long?”

“Maybe a little while,” Nissa sighed, patting the wood underneath her. “Give me a moment?”

“For sure.”

Nissa considered Chandra as the pyromancer looked up and down the street, taking in all the lights and activity. She really _did _look lovely. The yellow in her sari glistened as she moved, like a ripple of heat, and the red silks spiraled up from her waist to her shoulders, to that warm, toothy smile. It all suited her. The smile. The warm colors...

They’d barely spoken since Ravnica, until today, and their parting words...they’d stuck in Nissa’s mind. Chandra loved her. That much Nissa had suspected for a long time. What had been surprising, and surprisingly easy, was saying it back, and realizing she meant it in the same way Chandra did.

_But what do we do with that information now?_

_Why, whatever you want, of course. Isn’t that obvious?_

A chill ran down Nissa’s back despite the warm night. Chandra glanced down at her, a slight twinge in her voice, like there was when she was worried.

“Everything alright?”

“Yes...yes I think I’m ready.” She lifted a hand to Chandra, and Chandra took it automatically. Redder and redder still. “Let’s see this market of yours.”

** ** ** ** **

Festivals always meant increased air traffic over the streets. No number of ordinances had ever succeeded in stopping Ghirapur’s countless hobbyists from filling the skies with unlicensed thopters, and that was extra true when there was something to celebrate. Chandra had even taken a stab at making her own flying contraption for the artificer’s fair as a child, years ago. The flimsy thing had gotten knocked out of the sky almost immediately by one of the many better-designed machines, but plenty of her peers’ creations had lasted the entire day, vexing the air patrols and delighting everyone else on the ground.

On a night like the festival of the golden thopter, you could barely see the darkening sky past the rooftops for all the constructs in the air. All of them had at least one illuminated component for low-light visibility (per one of the remaining safety guidelines), and many had been outfitted with lanterns or colored glass bulbs filled with aether, so that every street in and around the market was full of a rushing, chirping rainbow of light.

Chandra mentally kicked herself for the hundredth time as a particularly loud thopter buzzed overhead. She’d been so excited to have something interesting to take Nissa to that she’d completely forgotten how much her (friend?) disliked noise, commotion, and generally all the sorts of things that were happening around them.

Chandra glanced sidelong at Nissa. So far she seemed to be genuinely herself, and kept looking up at the whir of motion and light with a small smile, her lips just barely apart, the lights reflecting in the pools of her eyes…

_Focus, FOCUS!_ Y _ou’re on a date, right? Think date stuff!_

“Pretty, uh...pretty cool, huh?” Chandra pointed up at the thopters. “There’ll be contests all this week. Races and beauty pageants and battles just for thopters.”

Nissa blinked. “Beauty pageants?”

“You know, like...coolest looking thopter, or…thopter with the most elegant wings.”

“So like the inventor’s fair?”

“Sort of. But for thopters.” Chandra considered the question for a moment. “And I guess also more for kids and hobbyists. More fun, than anything. The competition at the actual inventor’s fair can get pretty cutthroat.”

“It’s like being underwater,” Nissa murmured, looking up at the stream of thopters again. “The rivers in Halimar are full of fish like this. Every color and shape you can think of, all racing together back and forth from the inland sea...” She turned back to Chandra. “Sorry; I keep talking about home.”

“It’s totally cool!” Chandra waved her hands in what she hoped was a reassuring, and not deranged-looking gesture. “I like hearing about Zendikar from you...um, it’s really nice. Besides, you came to visit me here, so...”

Nissa smiled again, and bumped her shoulder against Chandra’s. Her outfit, lovely as it was, had short sleeves that covered up Nissa’s upper arms. It seemed ridiculous to be bothered by that, but Chandra was so used to seeing Nissa’s shoulders that anything covering them seemed...well, wrong. Most of the Zendikari kor didn’t even _wear_ sleeves.

_FOCUS!_

The night market was set up along several of the wider streets in the old foundry district, and was patronized most nights by workers who lived in the nearby homes, and their families. On a festival night like this, it drew folk all the way from the outskirts. Luckily, the plazas here were large enough that Chandra and Nissa could wander around without bumping up against someone every few steps.

“What are they selling here?” Nissa asked, her head turning slowly across the width of the square. Most of the stalls were pushed up against the walls, with only a few clusters in the center, to keep room open for thopters taking off and landing.

“Um, spices, meats, clothes… a lot of goods that the merchants bring in from outside the city.” Chandra pointed to a pair of dwarves perusing a fruit stall, and walking with a small courier servo with a basket half-full of purchases on its head. “Mostly stuff you can buy during the day, but the night market’s convenient if you work through most of the day. There’s some folks here just for the festival too, of course.”

Chandra pointed a few of these out. Stalls that had squeezed in between the usual sellers, or staked out a spot in the middle of the plaza. These ones were selling specialty thopter parts, fluorescent polishes for night-flying, spun sugar woven into the shape of aether trails, and dozens of other thopter-themed goods. There were even a few carnival games spread throughout the square.

"What about that one?”

Chandra followed Nissa's gaze to a plain wooden stand near the center of the square. A small crowd stood around it, both children and adults. the vendor, a stout elf, stood beside a hulking clockwork tower almost as tall as he was, with a jointed metal arms protruding from it, each strapped with black metal muscles. One arm rested on the table surface, balanced on the elbow.

"As you can see, ladies and gentlemen," the elf gestured at the underside of the table, and around the device, "there are no tricks to my contraption! Any contender that wishes to try their muscle against Baru's Amazing Audacious Arm is welcome to try for a modest entry fee."

The machine made a dramatic gesture, and pounded its fist against the tabletop.

“That’s not some kind of thopter, is it?"

“Oh. No, not at all,” Chandra laughed. “It’s a kind of strength game? You have to wrestle with the machine to win.” She pointed at a tall metal wire rack hung up behind the table, hung with all sorts of toys and large stuffed animals. “If you beat it you to pick a prize.”

“Oh. Do you want one?”

The question took Chandra aback. There _was _a really cool stuffed gremlin doll hanging from the rack, almost as tall as she was. But…

“Uh, that’s okay. Those games are always rigged anyways. Especially the ones with really complicated machines. My dad used to try to win stuff for mom and me at these things, but I don’t think he ever got more than a whistle or a rubber ball or something like that. Mostly mom and me just liked seeing him try.”

“Ah, okay.” Nissa’s ears twitched as she glanced around at the stall closer to the edge. The sizzle of meat and spices on skillets was hissing pleasantly over the murmur of the crowds, and with it a pleasant scent. Chandra thought she caught a glimpse of Nissa’s tongue flicking briefly across her upper lip.

“Um, how about food?”

“Yes!” Nissa grinned, looking surprisingly...sheepish? “I...may have been too excited to eat today.”

“Heck yeah! Let’s get some dinner, then. You should have stayed to eat this morning.”

“Oh...well, I didn’t want to bother you so early. I remember you like to sleep in when we were living with Jace, so...”

Chandra laughed. “Yeah. Mom always wakes me up before she leaves. She, uh, she doesn’t like me missing meals while I’m home.”

Nissa shrugged. “Moms, huh?”

“Moms,” Chandra nodded. Then she stopped short. Nissa moved just a step and a half past her before turning to look at her quizzically.

“Are you alright?”

“I...don’t think I’ve ever asked about your parents. Your family.”

“You could, if you want.”

Chandra pursed her lips. “I mean, if it’s okay. I...do want to know more about you, but only if you don’t mind telling me-”

A grumble from her stomach interrupted her, audible even over the sounds of the crowd.

“Maybe after some food?” Nissa offered.

“Yeah...I, uh….may not have eaten a lot of breakfast myself.”

A silence fell between them. Nissa turned her head from side to side across the plaza.

“Where should we start?”

A sweet, spicy scent wafted across the street. Chandra steered to nearest stall, where a squat vedalken was sweating over pans of sizzling oil. Plates surrounded the pans, heaped high with golden-brown pastries.

Nissa walked over with Chandra, and leaned over the piles of fried dough. Her braid slipped off her shoulder, and almost fell into the plates, but Chandra caught it before it touched the food.

“S-sorry!” She tried to smoothly put Nissa’s braid back in place, but just managed to knock into the elf’s shoulder as she stood. “I was just – um, the food...”

“Oh.” Nissa just smiled at Chandra. She looked completely unfazed. The vendor raised an eyebrow at them, but she smiled when Chandra paid for a small basket of vada.

“These are wonderful,” Nissa said between bites, licking crumbs off her thumb. “What are these peppers in the bread?”

“Uh, just chilies, I think.” Chandra’s own vada was forgotten on the end of a toothpick. She’d only just realized that, Nissa wasn’t wearing her usual gloves. A trickle of grease was running down her finger, collecting on the elf’s bare knuckle.

_Not a bad trade-off for the shoulders._

“Is everything alright?”

Chandra jolted slightly, nearly dropping her food. Nissa was looking at her, brow creased in concern.

“Yeah, yeah! All good!”

_Fooocuuuus!_

They bounced between several food stalls, sampling anything that caught their eyes. They found an empty bench and table to one side of the plaza and loaded it up with small cups of cinnamon-laced coffee, bowls of spiced vegetable stew, skewers of roast meat, and every sort of sweet the market had to offer. Chandra burned through the coins she had brought in the first hour, and by the end of it her head was buzzing with the rush of sugar and Nissa’s company. It had been too long since they were able to just talk like this, with no interruptions or immediate mission to worry about. The festival was still bustling around them at what she hoped was a low enough volume, and a few of the show-thopters were engaged in a complex light dance, but behind Nissa’s back, and far enough away that the noise wasn’t deafening.

“A kraken? Really??”

Nissa nodded. “The human and kor builders insist that it’s Lorthos, risen from the deep again, but Jori told me that the merfolk suspect it’s one of his spawn, grown even bigger than he was.” She shifted on the bench and reached across Chandra to grab a flagon of iced milk and honey. “Though, I don’t think anyone has actually measured.”

“Oh, wow.” Chandra had tried to make an effort not to talk with her mouth full, but Nissa didn’t seem to mind, so why not?. “So, did that cause any problems for the builders?”

“Oh, no, thankfully not. It was just curious, we think. The reconstruction of Sea Gate has led to more activity on the shores since...well...”

“Since Ulamog?”

“Yes. It’s coming along wonderfully, though. So much of stone in the immediately available quarries has been scarred by Kozilek, but the masons have found some very….interesting ways to incorporate the distortions into the architecture. It will be quite the sight once it’s finished.” Nissa took a long draught of the milk, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “If you’d like to see it...”

“Oh?” Chandra spun her kebab stick between her thumb and forefinger. The lone remaining piece of chicken spun in a bright orange blur. She could feel Nissa’s eyes on her, but couldn’t quite meet them. “I mean, if you want-”

“It doesn’t have to be now, of course.” Nissa smiled. “I’m having a lot of fun here. Sometime soon, though.”

“Y-yeah! That sounds really great. I’d love to finally visit Zendikar when the world isn’t in dire peril.”

“Yes, the danger is much more enjoyable when it’s just your own life on the line.” Nissa scanned the picked-over trays of food in front of them, then glanced at the last piece of chicken on Chandra’s skewer. With a quick movement, like a snake, she plucked it off the stick and popped it in her mouth, grinning.

Chandra made an outraged face and laughed. “I get it. You really just wanted to get some food off of me.”

“Well, I did,” Nissa returned, “But I still-”

“Chandra!

** ** **

“Chandra!”

The voice came from the direction of the light-show. Two women, one of them waving at Nissa and Chandra, were weaving toward them through the crowd.

Nissa realized with a start that she recognized the one in the lead: Saheeli Rai, who’d helped them fight against the consulate here in Ghirapur, and against Bolas in Ravnica. And right behind her…

“S-saheeli!”

The second woman called out as she nearly tripped over the hem of her sari. She recovered with a sturdy grace, but nearly ran into Saheeli. She stopped herself just short and threw an arm around Saheeli’s shoulder. She had coffee skin like many of the Kaladesh natives but, she wore a strange headress that looked conspicuously out of place.

Nissa suddenly pictured the woman, clad all in armor, and tearing through a blue-plated zombie, a squad of vicious reptiles at her back. She had been on Ravnica too. Another planeswalker. What was her name…?

“Hey Saheeli!” Chandra jumped up from the table while Saheeli and this new woman disentangled from each other. Nissa noted that the other woman’s sari didn’t quite fit her, dropping a bit around her waist, hugging her a bit too tightly across her shoulders. It shifted in a way that didn’t look comfortable as she reached out and entwined her fingers with Saheeli’s.

_That could be you and the fire, if you want it_.

“How are you?” Chandra’s voice cut across the one in Nissa’s head. “I haven’t seen you since...”

“Ravnica, yes.” Saheeli hugged Chandra, and Nissa felt a dull pressure behind her throat as she watched the easy exchange between them. “Have you been back long? Your mother mentions you very time I see her-”

“And worries?”

“Well, yes.” Saheeli and the other woman followed Chandra back to the table. “I’m afraid I told her a bit _too_ much about the scrap with Bolas.”

Chandra nodded with a small grimace. “Well, probably nothing she wasn’t already worried about before I left. Um...you remember Nissa?”

Nissa stood, and to her surprise, Saheeli embraced her as well. The metal decorations on Saheeli’s clothing bent with surprising flexibility to accommodate.

“Of course. That was very impressive work you did with those...plant constructs?” Saheeli made a vague gesture, raising her hand above her head. “The great big one especially, with all the marble in it. Oh,” She turned to the other woman, whose hand she was still holding. “I think you’ve both met Huatli?”

_Huatli. Right._

Huatli gave a small bow before sitting down with all of them at the bench. “We’ve heard your days have been full of travel since the war,” she said to Chandra. “I’d love to hear more about where you’ve been.”

“Me?” Chandra shrugged. “A few places. I mean...mostly just puttering around. Uh...you know, Amonkhet…Dominaria...uh, Regatha. That’s where I did a lot of my training growing up.”

“Training in the art of fire?” Huatli leaned forward, elbows on the table, chin planted between her thumb and forefinger. “Amazing. Is that where you learned to…?” She fluttered the other three fingers on the hand and made a small ‘_fwoom_’ sound.

“Pyromancy? Uh, no. I could do that before I ever ‘walked.” Chandra made a small circle of fire in the air with her finger for emphasis. “But they did help me refine my technique.” She flicked out her fingers, and five small rings of fire twirled off into the night sky.

“What about you two?” Nissa asked. “Have you been traveling since...all the excitement?”

Saheeli shook her head. “Goodness no. I need a good, long break between my excitements.”

“_I've_ been making a list of planes to visit.” Huatli reached into the loose folds of her clothing and produced a small, leather-bound book. “One golden lining to the war was meeting so many interesting people form so many interesting worlds.” She flipped through the book. “Did you know there’s an entire plane where everything is about a hundredth the size it is everywhere else? And a plane where the world has ended over a dozen times? I don’t know how planeswalkers could ever get bored!”

Nissa smiled to herself as Chandra nodded vigorously in agreement.

“Right? We should all go to Zendikar sometime. That’s Nissa’s world; you could spend your whole life adventuring there.”

Saheeli rolled her eyes. “_This_ one is all talk.” She tapped a finger against Huatli’s nose. “All her talk of adventure and she’s spent all the last month wandering around the coil and writing poetry.”

“I’ve been...preoccupied with Kaladesh, I suppose.” Huatli’s cheeks reddened a shade. “There’s so much here! And that’s before you ever even leave the city.” She flipped the book open and began thumbing through the pages. “Ah. Here we go. Regatha, you said?”

Saheeli tapped her nose again. “Huatli...”

“What? I’m very interested!” Huatli smiled at them. “I...well, I haven’t been able to walk between the worlds for very long. I suppose it gets a bit boring when you’ve been able to do it all your life, but a poor girl like me who spent her whole life on the same island? I’ve never been so excited in my life!”

She gave Saheeli’s hand a visible squeeze. Nissa saw Chandra’s eyes dart down to where the other two women’s fingers were wrapped around each other.

“Oh! Uh, are you two…?”

Saheeli lifted up Huatli’s hand and lay a kiss across the back. “Right before Ravnica. This one has been showing me new creatures to lifecraft.”

“I have other charming qualities too.” Huatli tugged Saheeli’s hand over and kissed her across the knuckles. “But I’m afraid it’s just one more thing that keeps me occupied on this plane.”

“Oh, is _that_ all I am?” Saheeli raised her brow. “Well, I guess I don’t really need this token, then. She mimed pulling a pin out of her bun, while Huatli gave out a small cry of protest.

“That’s lovely,” Nissa commented. The pin was long and chrome, with a filigree swirl of sapphire at the tip shaped like intertwined trails of aether. “Was that a gift?”

“A prize!” Huatli beamed proudly, pointing to a spot toward the corner of the plaza, where several older humans and a vedalken sat hunched around a table. “A jeweler challenged me to a game of Pachisi for my headdress; thought she’d get an easy win off of me, but little did she know I’d spent a week mastering the game out in the coil.”

“The spoils of gambling,” Saheeli laughed. “What every girl dreams of receiving from a lover.”

Huatli made a small outraged noise. “You say that as if hundreds of Kaladeshi don’t gamble on your matches every day. I’ve _seen _you put money on yourself.”

“Yes, well, I never lose.” Saheeli planted a small kiss on Huatli’s cheek. “And I’ll have you know people write poetry about _my_ victories.”

She kissed Huatli again, this time on the lips, and Nissa felt the pang again. Not exactly jealousy. She was as pleasantly surprised as Chandra about Saheeli and Huatli, but how was it so easy for them? The touches. The looks. The small gestures...

“Ch-chandra!”

The others all looked at Nissa. She ignored the hammering of her heart and stood from the bench. “I’m going to fight the wrestling machine.”

She pulled off her jacket and stalked toward the booth where the elf and his arm-construct were in the middle of defeating another would-be strongman.

“Too bad, friend!” The elf chortled, as the current challenger, a round-shouldered vedalken, wrung his hand. “Any other challengers? Many wonderful prizes await the contender who-”

Nissa strode up and pressed a coin into the other elf’s hand. She had collected a few sitting out in front of Chandra’s building, from passer-bys who had mistaken her for a beggar.

The elf raised an eyebrow at Nissa. “Oh ho! Well, let’s have a round of applause for the brave young elf!”

Nissa seated herself on the rough-hewn stool across from the construct. It might have been a living thing for its complexity: thick pistons and metal-sheathed tubes folded together like tendons and veins under a jet-black filigree carapace, curved to look like a preposterously muscled human arm. The elf leaned up against the machine, smirking down at her.

“Alright, what do you say we let her have one free crack at it?”

There was a light cheer and applause from the crowd. They wanted the full show, but it seemed they were getting tired of seeing the machine win over and over again. Nissa noted out of the corner of her eye that Chandra had pressed to the front of the surrounding crowd, Saheeli and Huatli at her shoulders.

Nissa grabbed the mechanical hand. The palm and fingers were coated in worn velvet, surprisingly soft and pleasant to the touch. When the fingers wrapped around her hand, they did so delicately, with barely any pressure.

“One...two...three...wrestle!”

Nissa returned the arm’s touch with a firm but restrained force of her own. It yielded with very little resistance, and in three seconds she had slammed the back of the hand into the tabletop.

“Bravo!” The elf stood upright, and for a second Nissa could feel a slight tightening of the fingers around her own before the arm let go and re-set itself. “What an arm on the young lady! I like her chances. What do you say, miss? Are you ready to take on Baru’s amazing arm for the prize of your choice?” He turned to the crowd. “What do you all say? Are your ready?”

Once, back on Ravnica, Liliana had told Nissa that the uniform green of her eyes made it difficult to tell when she was rolling them. She was especially grateful for that now.

Behind her, Chandra was giving two thumbs-up, and Huatli was clapping loudly. Saheeli was appraising the machine, frowning slightly.

“Not backing down, are you, young lady?”

Nissa turned back to the table. The elf was grinning down at her. It was a smile that unsettled Nissa; not a comforting one, like the smiles here friends gave her.

Nissa reached out and grabbed the metal hand. The grip this time was definitely tighter. Nissa glanced up at the machine, where Saheeli had been staring. One of the chords that ran up the side of the machine where the smiling elf had been leaning was definitely sticking out a bit further than it had. Was that part of the trick?

“1, 2, 3, GO!”

The sudden press of the arm startled Nissa, and her arm was bent back a few inches before she could recover. It was gratifying to see the other elf’s smile disappear as she stopped the metal arm dead, and began, slowly, to press it back the other way.

Harder, but not nearly as bad as she’d fear. If there was a trick to the arm getting stronger, it didn’t actually matter.

Nissa slammed the hand down against the table with a heavy _thud_. She could hear something in the machine snap over the whir of its engine and the sudden, explosive cheer from the crowd.

_Of course it doesn’t matter. You’ve moved gods. What’s a tin arm compared to that?_

_** ** **_

“W-well we have a winner! A round of applause for the festival’s strongest!”

The smile came back to the elven proprietor's face almost as quickly as it had fallen off. That fact only vaguely registered in Chandra’s mind as she gaped. Nissa was stretching her shoulder, muscles moving smoothly under the her tattooed skin.

_When did it get so warm out?_

"Quiet a feat," Huatli commented, still clapping. "That device looked like it got a second wind for a moment, before she struck it down."

"It _was _pushing with more force the second time." Saheeli pointed to the side of the machine. "Baru was leaned up on that aether tube the first time, cutting off the power to the engine; the device is only ever running at half power until he stops pressing on it."

Chandra was only half-listening to their conversation. Nissa had strode over to the prize rack, and, before the booth proprietor could even prompt her, grabbed the largest of the gremlin dolls and threw it over her shoulder.

"Ah, miss..." the proprietor rubbed his hands together. "...that one takes three wins..."

"Would you like me to try again?" Nissa asked. "I'm not sure your construct has another round left in it."

The properties took a beat to stare at his machine.

"Well, I suppose such a fine win deserves-"

Nissa was already walking over to Chandra.

"Here...um, for you." She handed the gremlin to over, and Chandra had to take a beat to not fall forward. Nissa carried the doll so effortlessly that the weight of the thing caught her by surprise. Still, it was soft and adorable and _holy smokes look at __Nissa’s__ arms. _

Chandra was so distracted by the prize and the muscles that had won them that she almost didn’t notice Nissa smiling at her, waiting for Chandra to say something.

“That...that was the coolest! Thank you!”

“Agreed,” Huatli added. “Quite the feat of strength!”

A few of the children around them clearly agreed. Already a few of them were clamoring around Nissa, or admiring the doll spilling out of Chandra’s arms.

“Amazing!”

“How did you get so strong, miss?”

“Get one for us too!”

The proprietor started making moves to disassemble his booth, though none of the surrounding merchants seemed to be ready to close up for the night. If anything, the plaza was fuller than it had been when they’d arrived.

Chandra hefted the stuffed gremlin back to the table, trailed by her fellow planeswalkers and a crowd of child admirers, still swarming around Nissa. They all played with the children a short while, Chandra letting them all take turns climbing on it or pretending to fight it off from their toy thopters. Saheeli even took a moment to animate a simple construct of steel that wrapped around the doll’s forelimbs and so it could chase them around the eating benches, much to the diner’s amusement and (in one or two cases) annoyance. Chandra ran around with them, which raised some eyebrows, but got another big smile out of Nissa.

When they tired of fleeing the doll, a few of the kids started to barrage Nissa with questions again. She was fairly inconspicuous in most situations, but between her outfit and her feat of strength, she’d attracted a fair bit of attention.

“Are you from the cowl?”

“Why are your eyes so pretty?”

“Have you ever wrestled with an elephant?”

Nissa laughed and answered each of their questions in turn, but her smile was getting thinner. She was clasping her hands together more now than she had earlier in the evening too, and closing her eyes for long lapses between questions.

Eventually Chandra started shooing the kids away, gently.

“Alright, it’s a festival, go enjoy it.” She threw a few bursts of fire into sky, vaguely thopter shaped, and the children ran off after them, laughing and whooping. The scattered, some of them going back off to the stalls, others to the thopter displays, and a few others joined a growing crowd in the center of the plaza, who had begun dancing and singing under underneath a small grouping of thopters that were buzzing around in tight, intersecting loops. A group of qawwali singers had set up along side the booths, and had struck up a wild, whirling song.

** ** **

“That looks like a bit of fun over there.”Huatli swept her eyes over all of them with a smile, and extended a hand to Saheeli. “Shall we dance?”

Nissa felt the small pang of jealousy again as Saheeli took Huatli’s hand and let herself be lifted up onto her feet.. She _did_ want to dance with Chandra, but there were so many bodies moving there, and she was already feeling-

“Um, I think we might just sit for a while,” Chandra said in reply. “It was really great to see you both, though!”

“Likewise,” Saheeli smiled. “I imagine we’ll be seeing more of you soon?”

“Oh?” Nissa cocked her head. “Is there another festival?”

Saheeli shook her head. “Karn came around to the dueling grounds this afternoon. Said something about needing help with a mission off-plane.” She looked at Chandra. “He mentioned you by name.”

“Oh!” Chandra looked from Nissa to Saheeli. “Yeah, he and Teferi were planning to, uh...do you know Teferi?”

“Pia’s companion? Yes, I remember him being quite handy on Ravnica.”

“Mom’s…? Uh, never mind, that’s not important. So...you’ll be coming with us?”

“Possibly…” Saheeli glanced over at Huatli. “Karn made it seem quite important.”

“A silver man in a city of gold...” Huatli rubbed her chin, her hand absently patting for the notebook in her dress. “...There’s something there, don’t you think?”

“I’m sure you’ll find it if there is.” Saheeli started off toward the dance, gently tugging Huatli along. She gave Nissa and Chandra a nod “Enjoy the rest of the festival!”

Chandra waved at their backs, and then exchanged a look with Nissa. Nissa raised an eyebrow.

“That’s...unexpected.”

“Yeah.” Chandra scratched the back of her head. “Reassuring though. I don’t know much about these phyrexians, but I’d give most any machine long odds against whatever Saheeli can whip up.”

“But a whole plane full of them?”

“We did pretty good against a plane full of Eldrazi.” Chandra moved up onto her feet and around the table to sit next to Nissa. Most of the festival crowd had moved toward the dancing, either to watch or join in, and their side of the plaza was suddenly much quieter. The gremlin doll was half-hanging off the table, giving them a nice soft surface to sit against.

“How’re you feeling?”

Chandra’s hand was hovering somewhere above Nissa’s arm. She could feel the warmth from the surrounding air. Right then, however, she couldn’t look away from Chandra’s face. The small patch of pale skin where her goggles usually sat. The small flare of her nostrils.

“I – I am a bit tired, I think.”

“Do you want to go? You can crash with me tonight, if you want. Me and mom, I mean. If you weren’t planning to go back home tonight, I mean.”

Nissa reached out and pressed Chandra’s hand down on her arm. The stiffness eased by degrees.

“Thank you. I’d like that, I think. We can sit a little while first, I think.”

Chandra nodded. Her hand shifted, and for a moment, Nissa thought she might pull it away.

_So tell her not to._

Nissa ignored the voice. She started to lift her hand, but Chandra hooked a finger over her thumb.

They both froze in unison.

“Um...” Chandra wasn’t looking at Nissa, but rather, very intently at the spot just below their hands. Is that alright...is it alright if I...?”

“Yes.”

The warmth that washed over Nissa’s as their fingers slid together would have set her heart racing, if she weren’t so tired. As it was, the warmth was like a blanket. Like sunshine on a quiet day in the treetops. A point of comfort to focus on through the noise and the light.

“My mother is an animist,” Nissa whispered. “One of the last, like me. Before I sparked we lived among the Joraga elves. I...left her there with them so they would not cast her out for fear of my visions of Zendikar.”

“Cast her out?”

Nissa nodded. “Before the eldrazi, they blamed the roil on our visions.”

“You said that she _is _an animist. Did she...when the eldrazi rose, that is...is she?”

“She made it through.”

Chandra exhaled softly. “Yeah...that makes sense. Moms are tough.”

“Ha. They are that.”

“So now...is she…?”

“She’s still with the Joraga.” A small smirk turned up the corner of Nissa’s mouth. “With Zendikar in the state it’s in, they’ve had a change of heart on the value of an animist...you should meet her, when we go next.”

“I’d like that.”

They sat for a long while, watching the dance. Their hands remained nestled together, exchanging soft squeezes. Nissa very badly wanted to talk with Chandra about what this was, but for now it was enough to just enjoy that they had it. To be close and to be held.

Plenty of time for words tomorrow.


End file.
